


Royale, my Royale

by synomous01



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synomous01/pseuds/synomous01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sneak peak inside the thoughts of Pree when he first returned to Old Town to his bar, the Royale, after the bombing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royale, my Royale

**Author's Note:**

> Note(s): Takes place during a scene within the episode "Wild, Wild Westerley", Season 2. 
> 
> Note(s): I don't own Killjoys or any of its characters

**Pree**

 

The Royale was bustling with activity, something that Pree was used to.  Thank the Roots for that.  When the Dutch and the crew had arrived in Old Town the first time, he had feared the worse.  Until of course, he heard terrible music blaring from his bar. 

 

As they entered, Pree saw some douche owning  _ his  _ Royale.  While Pree was no stranger to people trying to steal things, it was far more offensive when it was his baby that was being stolen.  

 

Dutch too took offense to the guy who called himself Garrett, the newest owner of Royale.  Dutch ordered D’Avin to go upstairs to look for Pawter and Johnny to scan for facial targets of their latest warrant.  Meanwhile, she was planning to use herself as a distraction so Johnny could find the guy they were looking for.  And as per Dutch’s look at Johnny, hurry, was an unsaid request.

 

“Hey Garrett,” she said loudly over the loud awful music, “this is Pree’s place.”

 

Muscle man Garrett smirked at her, writing her off as a sassy woman.

 

Oh boy, the man did not know his place, thought Pree.  Though he was a rather big guy.  He wondered what Dutch was planning to do.  Shoot him perhaps?

 

“I’ll make you a deal.  I’ll fight you for it.” She said.

 

Oh. Pree should have guessed that.  Dutch wasn’t going to shoot the man, not yet anyway.  Garrett looked at her and was amused by her challenge.  

 

“You?”  Eying her small frame.

 

_ Run Garrett, run, thought Pree.  You don’t know what you’re getting yourself in to.  But on second thought, you did steal my bar.  Maybe you are deserving of what’s coming. _

 

“Unless you can’t take on a Killjoy and you want everyone to know about it.” said Dutch even louder, this time getting everyone in the bars’ attention.

 

Here it comes, thought Pree just as the one on one fight with Dutch and Garrett started.  That’s my girl, Pree grinned as he saw her hold down the muscled man that was at least twice her size.  While Pree knew that she was fighting partly because of her warrant, he was pretty sure she was enjoying the beatdown too for a man that dared to steal her friend’s bar.  

 

This was Pree’s place, his anchor to Old Town.  Aside for this place he called home, there was another however.  But that was another part of his life that he had since long retired from.  Like a distant memory that he had shuffled away.  

 

While as part of his usual routine he chatted with customers of the Royale, he rarely divulged much of his past.  In fact, he was probably just as vague about it as Dutch was.  But in reality, it wasn’t like people asked about his past at all, it was mostly  _ his _ job to listen to them talk, like he was their therapist or something.  Pree didn’t mind or course.  He found listening to his customer’s stories fascinating.  

 

Yet there had been times Pree wondered if anyone had ever bothere to ask or pry about his life, they’d have found out there had been a time he’d been a warlord - well, a stylish dictator - in his time, back in his home planet outside the Quad.  The J was quite a big cluster of the universe, not everyone knew everything, although he was sure he was listed somewhere that was one of his past dealings.

 

He’d travelled less these days, living a quieter more legal way of life - well...to a degree anyway.  He enjoyed the life of being a bartender.  He met many people in different walks of life, all with their little stories and secrets.  Some came to share, some just to be depressed, and then there were those that came to pass the time between warrants.  

 

Like the Dutch he met when she first came to the Royale some many years ago.  

 

**Seven years ago - Old Town, Westerley**

 

**\- The Royale -**

 

Pree while tending to a customer from the other side of the bar, spotted her instantly as she walked in the bar.  Dark eyes, sultry lips, and a face that turned heads in a room.  She seated herself by the bar, relaxed in posture.   While Pree expected her to wave him down with a drink request, she didn’t.  Instead, she sat there content with simply enjoying the music and looking at what looked like a warrant on her scan device.  Ah.  A Killjoy?  A lovely one at that, Pree admitted.  Definitely new to his bar.  

 

A few men seated close to the bar started to get rowdy, making lewd remarks to get the woman’s attention.  At first, Pree noticed that she chose to ignore them.  But something one of the muscled men said, the guy in the wifebeater shirt, got her attention.

 

Her head turned to the person who said the offensive words and Pree could see that the woman was definitely not new to being a Killjoy.  Or maybe just not new to killing in general.  

 

There was a steely look in her eyes, the gaze she gave wifebeater guy, it was a look that could kill.  That woman, Pree thought, definitely had a story to her, likely a very dark one.  

 

She said something the wifebeater guy, her facial expression looking colder by the minute.  Although Pree couldn’t hear what it was, he could see the effect it had on him.  The man didn’t want to chicken out, given all his buddies were there, so of course, he continued to antagonized the woman along with the others.  

 

_ Bad idea _ , thought Pree as he saw her unholster her blaster.   _ Ah no, not here in his bar, _ thought Pree, feeling the immediate need to step in before things got messy.  There were going to be bodies, and it wasn’t going to be that woman’s.  No.  She was something else, the forced restraint on her, if she decided to take those men down, there would lots of blood on the Royale’s floors.  And damn it be for Pree to have to clean it all up afterwards.  No, he’d really prefer not to deal with that.  Pree began to make his way towards her when the door of the Royal suddenly swung open.  

 

A young man, with soft friendly features and a bright smile, came striding in.  He waved at the woman and moved to bar area to greet her.  Instantly, Pree could see the change in the woman’s body language.  Moments ago she had been on edge, ready to pretty much blast the man - and likely his buddies - who had offended her, but now, her bloodlust had suddenly stilled.  She gave the newcomer a warm smile and nodded for him to sit next to her.  The bar men, Pree noticed, who had nearly dead men moments ago took this chance to slowly back away back to their seats; clearly grateful for the newcomer’s interruption.   

 

Who was this man?  Was this a lover?  No, Pree could see no kisses exchanged nor any affectionate contact. The relationship, in fact, was difficult for Pree to categorize immediately.  There was excited energy from the young man, as he prattled on about something that made the woman only smile more.   

 

The young man didn’t wait too long before he signaled Pree to come over.  Pree approached them, feeling a great deal of interest in the pair.  He really wanted to know their story.  The woman fascinated him with her offsetting personality and the young man, who seemed to pacify the Killjoy’s bloodlust.   _ This was going to be an interesting day indeed _ , Pree thought.  

 

“Hello there, lovelys; name’s Pree.  What can I get you?”

 

It was the young man who answered.  

 

“Some of your best Hokk, Pree.” He said with a huge grin on his face.  

 

“Of course.”  He moved to grab some beneath the counter and asked, “Special occasion?”

 

“Just passed my test, it’s official, I’m a RAC agent now!”

 

That made Pree pause for a moment.  He scanned the young man, soft innocent looking eyes, bright smile.... _ This one, a RAC agent?  A bit too nice to be one, no? _  But he held his tongue.  He was sure there was story behind the change in profession.

 

“Well, that certainly calls for a congratulations!  Got a partner or are you planning to travel on your own?  If you need, I could get you in touch with a few connections...”

 

“Nope, got a partner. You’re looking at her,” he nodded to the dark haired woman seated next to him.

 

_ Wow.  Okay. _  That, Pree was not expecting.  

 

“Ah, wonderful,” he heard himself say.  In his mind, questions were reeling about - this indeed was an interesting pairing.

 

“Dutch,” the young man said in earnestness to the woman, “do you think I could add some new subroutines to Lucy, you know, make her more efficient?  Got some great ideas that can boost her searches in the database too.”

 

The woman smiled and replied.  “Johnny, you do whatever you need to do to make her run more smoothly.  Just don’t make her my boss.  I swear, I think she likes you more than me now.”  Her threat was lighthearted, certainly nothing to the same tone she had used on the men earlier, thought Pree.

 

“Well, I guess I do feed her brainfood.”

 

“You spoil her, Johnny,” she said smiling as she drank the cup of Hokk that Pree had filled.

 

“I do.  But you know, it’ll come in handy with the warrants.”

 

“Yes.  For the warrants.” She agreed.  

 

“This,” said Johnny, “calls for a cheers!  For our newly formed team!” picking his glass and clinked it with Dutch’s.  Pree couldn’t help but join in, using the bottle of Hokk as his toasting cup.

 

These two, thought Pree with a smile, were going to be regulars here.

 

***

 

At the time Pree didn’t know how right he was.  Now, back in the present time, seven years later, the two people, Dutch and Johnny, were indeed no longer strangers in his bar.  They were now both friends and confidents of his, willing to watch each others backs and pretty much take on anyone who dared to cross any one of them.  

 

Pree also realized as he looked around at his rundown rustic looking bar, how much he had missed this place.  He was home.  He really didn’t belong on a ship galavanting around the Quad.  The Royale was  _ his _ home.  He was happy to be back in Old Town.  Rubble or not, it was was what he considered his home, and he wasn’t going to leave it again.  

 

Now of course, wasn’t the time to tell Dutch that.  They had some important things to do - such as completing their warrant by Jelco.  

 

D’Avin returned from his search upstairs; Pawter wasn’t there.  Dutch stated out their next plan of action, which was to get into the prisons to deal with seven rather dangerous convicts.  Pree wanted to help, Pawter was his friend too.  He still had a good set of networks - well, hopefully they were still alive.  He would work with what he had.

 

“Let me find out where she is,” he offered.

 

“And Alvis too?” Added Dutch.

 

Pree nodded. He was worried for them though, those convicts were dangerous, there had been enough of his friends dying under the rule of those with higher status.

 

“Just be careful,” He said to Dutch.  “I want you in one pretty piece.”

 

Dutch acknowledged his concern and moved out.  

 

Johnny, however, couldn’t help but add on, “Careful, where’s the fun in that?”

 

Johnny had changed, Pree thought, no doubt in that.  He was stronger, and much more sarcastic than the old Johnny he met that very first day when he joined the RAC.  But there was still that earnest goodness in him that hadn’t been lost.  That, was always the heart of Johnny Jacobis.  Pree could see that.  And Dutch must have seen that too the moment they met.  

 

Damn it, he hoped his friends came out of this unscathed.  For now, before he headed off to find Pawter, he had to deal with a bit of a mess.  One of the convicts that had been part of Jelco’s warrant had his brains splattered against the wall of his bar.  Sigh.  He’ll clean this up first.  It would take a while to get his contacts in anyway.

 

“Alright B*tches, who’s up for cleaning brains off of brick?” 

  
**End**


End file.
